


Two Ships

by Zanne



Series: Reincarnated Winchesters [1]
Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Crossover, Future Fic, M/M, implied wincest, non-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean found a way out of Dean's deal, but it cost them more than they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Ships

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://insomnia-geek.livejournal.com/profile)[**insomnia_geek**](http://insomnia-geek.livejournal.com/) for not only beta-ing, but giving me the idea for the end since the original was kind of blah. This story utterly screws with the timelines for both shows, so pretend the escape on _Dark Angel_ happens about ten years from the end of this season. This is only part of the story of what happens to the Winchesters as the result of their eluding the deal, so please read _Do You Remember?_ if you want more of the pieces to the puzzle.  Kripke owns the Winchesters and James Cameron owns _Dark Angel_ (it says so on the box, with apostrophes and everything). Portions of dialogue from "Hello, Goodbye" ( _Dark Angel_ ) and various _Supernatural_ episodes are used in this story. (Originally posted: 12/3/07)

  
X5-493 sat atop the barracks roof, the stiff wind causing his skin to prickle in biological reaction, even if he felt no physical discomfort. He knelt before the altar, gazing attentively up at his Blue Lady and awaiting whatever revelation she allowed him next.

She’d been coming to see him in his dreams the past week, honoring him with the knowledge of her creation. A more magnificent sight he had never beheld and just remembering it made him harden slightly beneath his tunic.

He ignored his traitorous body and resumed his focus on the Blue Lady as images of her birth unspooled in his mind.

He always opened his eyes to find her above him, splayed out like a star and burning just as brightly. Her gown was tinted blue from the moonlight spilling in the window and the red slash in her belly was almost high enough to see her beating heart; it was the one thing that disappointed him, that the picture was wrong about such a beautiful and glorious detail - the red, weeping flesh such a contrast to her pale, porcelain skin. Her golden hair was a halo around her face - that face with such large, soulful eyes and such thick, red lips.

He shifted, the heavy weight between his legs becoming distracting as he worshipped.

Sometimes he thought he felt sadness at watching her blaze so brightly above him, like it was his fault and he should do something to help her, but that emotion was soon buried beneath the flood of awe and _want_ that overcame him as she continued to burn.

He always awoke after her visits with his heart beating fast and a sticky substance coating his tunic, but he knew it was from being in the presence of the Blue Lady and that no one else could know she came to him in his dreams.

That was his secret – she had chosen _him_. 

                                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soldiers marched in formation down the cool, gray corridor, eyes forward and their breaths even and steady. The fact that these soldiers were children didn’t alter the pure grace and rigid synchronization that made their every movement a wonder to behold.

Lydecker buried a smile before it could dare to show itself, even though he had every right to be proud; these were _his_ creatures, the most perfect soldiers created in the X-series. But pride had no place at Manticore because they could always show improvement, and that’s what he taught them – they needed to be better, stronger, faster. There was no try, only _do_ – only success and never failure. Failure was not tolerated.

That was why he brought his unit down here; it was a more circuitous route to the training grounds than was strictly necessary, but they needed to see that failure was not an option at Manticore. Failure led to being locked away and forgotten.

He kept a careful eye on X5-493 as they traversed the long corridor; that one showed weakness. Every time he brought them down here, a fine sheen of sweat would cover X5-493’s upper lip and vague tremors would shiver along his frame. At first, Lydecker thought it might be the result of the seizures that cursed his kids, but he only ever saw it here, in this dark, cold hallway full of failure.

A snarl erupted from the depths of a cell to the right and a long clawed hand reached out to slash at X5-493. A leonine face with glowing, golden eyes pressed against the bars, growling ferally as X5-493 made a soft, huffing noise of fear and pressed back against the opposite wall, murmuring something defiantly that Lydecker couldn’t make out from his position at the head of the line.

A pale, gray-skinned arm swept down from the door that X5-493 pressed against and he looked up in more obvious terror, the sliver-thin fangs shining in the light as the red-eyed X2 – albino vampire bat, Lydecker recalled – chirruped coaxingly at the boy.

X5-493 fell to his knees, trying to crawl away as quickly as he could, only stopping when Lydecker gripped him by the back of the neck and demanded, “What did you say, X5-493?”

The boy was unable to answer, his gaze wide and withdrawn as he stared at the two sets of eyes studying him so hungrily.

“X5-448, what did X5-493 say to the X2?”

The girl stood at attention and replied evenly, “X5-493 said, ‘You can’t have me’, sir!”

Lydecker glanced down at the boy still dangling from his grip, curious about the statement. Maybe there was a chance for this one, after all. Maybe they could train the fear right out of him.

They had better, or X5-493 would wind up locked down here with his nightmares, no matter how hard he fought. 

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X5-494 lay strapped to the table, squinting up into the bright lights shining down on him like a beacon.

A shadowy silhouette leaned over him, the lights leaving him unable to make out any of the man’s features. “X5-494, do you know where they’ve gone?”

A faint voice came from the left, insisting steadily, “Sir, you know there is no contact between the units. They wanted the twin pairs raised separately to see which training regime produced a more effective soldier.”

“Quiet, major! Administer the injection. We don’t have time for niceties.”

X5-494 felt the prick at his elbow, a warm, heavy feeling creeping up his arm as the medication traveled through his bloodstream. His eyelids flickered and then steadied as he fought off the effects of the drug, instinctively following the directives of his training.

“Triple the dose. Time is a factor.”

“Sir, it’s too dangerous….”

“That’s an _order_.”

X5-494 didn’t feel the second injection, but he was finding it more difficult to focus on the man’s words.

“Your genetic twin escaped with eleven others in his unit. Where did he go?”

X5-494 blinked sleepily up at the ceiling, an overwhelming grief suddenly overcoming him.

 _…he watched as the bus pulled away from the depot, hands stuffed in his pockets even as the shaggy-haired boy inside waved at him sadly. Only when it reached the end of the drive did he pull out a hand, waving at the bus until it disappeared around the curve of the road, wanting nothing more than to run after it, to beg him to stay….  
_  
The word tripped off his tongue, clumsy with drugs and desolation. “Stanford.”

He didn’t know what it meant.

The others in the room fell silent before the hesitant voice offered, “Sometimes the drugs make random thoughts emerge. The information isn’t 100% reliable, particularly with that high of a dosage.”

“Send a team to check it out, anyhow.”

“But, sir....”

“Do it! And then make sure X5-494 doesn’t have the same tendency to run. I want a full psych evaluation and reprogramming to begin _immediately_.”

X5-494 lay there loosely, the only thing keeping him in position the straps that tied him to the table. A single tear slid down his cheek as the nurses readied him for his next session, the pain of the light hitting his eyes almost a welcome relief from the inexplicable sense of loss he felt - this strange, empty feeling that seemed to eat away at his insides even as the drugs claimed him and forced his consciousness to begin slipping away.

“He’s coding! Prepare the adrenaline injection, STAT!”

 _…he left me…. Why did he leave me? Wasn’t I enough?...  
_  
As his thoughts melted into a fuzzy, swirling haze, he remembered red eyes glimmering at him from the darkness, offering him the only thing he’d ever wanted in the world…

His heart stopped before he found out what it was. 

                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’d been silent for so long that he had begun to panic, increasing his offerings to prove his devotion to her. He scattered the bloody teeth at her feet and bowed his head, his relentless litany echoing through the darkened church.

“Please!” Ben begged, not caring if anyone else heard as long as _she_ listened. “I need something… _someone_ …to tell me what to do! Don’t leave me here alone. I _can’t_ be alone….”

His plea broke off with a soft sob and he hunched further forward until his forehead rested on the cold cement pedestal that held the statue in its alcove. Ben splayed his hands flat, his fingernails scratching at the floor until they were broken and bleeding, blood leaving even ribbons of red across the statue’s feet.

She spoke, as she always did, not with whispered words that could be interpreted incorrectly, but with flashing images almost too quick to make out -

 _…the swing of a machete taking off a man’s head, the flick of a lighter and bodies burning as they screamed, the priest’s easy smile before the bullet burned its way like branding iron through his flesh…  
_  
“My son? Are you all right? Do you need help?”

Ben slowly turned his head, his teeth glittering sharply in the light of the priest’s lamp as the old man squatted nearby, reaching out a friendly hand.

“No, Father,” Ben replied with a shark tooth smile as his switchblade snicked open to shine like the sword of an avenging angel. “The Lady has guided me already.” 

                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X5-494 absently studied the dark brown head hunched so diligently over the laptop, a curious warmth growing inside him. A soft smile spread over his face and he wanted to reach out and brush that stray strand of hair out of Sa-….

“Simon?” Rachel asked with a delicate arch of her brow. “What are you thinking about?”

He shook his head, forcing away these silly fantasies and refocusing on his objective. “Us,” he admitted with an artful reluctance.

Rachel laughed lightly, glancing up from the computer to watch her father through the window. “If my father ever found out….”

“Yeah,” Simon snorted, staring with idle fixation at a black model car decorating her father’s desk as his voice deepened to a relaxed drawl. “If dad found out, he’d kill me.”

 _…It’s your job to protect him, De-…  
_  
“What?” Rachel asked, a look of confusion flashing over her face.

Simon’s more polished, clipped tones reassured her as he tried to cover his slip. “I said, ‘If your dad ever found out, he’d kill me’.”

She shook her head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his statement as she rose from the desk and wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t care what he thinks, Simon,” she murmured against his chest.

He crushed the feeling that something was off, that she was too small and delicate, that she’d break if he tried to hold her as hard as he wanted to, no muscle to surge beneath his hands…. Instead, he nuzzled at her hair, closing his eyes and letting the aroma wash over him – like crushed leaves and vanilla coffee, an odd mix of outdoors and….

 _…wrapped in that scent and feeling as safe as he ever felt, those large arms cocooning him against that heated skin…  
_  
He allowed the scent to take him, murmuring softly against that head of soft, brown hair, “…a man without a compass….”

His eyes still tightly closed, blocking out her confused reply, X5-494 inhaled – _this was always my compass_ …. 

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell me about the Good Place,” Max murmured, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Ben gave her a shivery smile, his eyes softening as he remembered. “Where no one ever gets punished.”

 _…he was against the cabin wall, his…father?...with those golden, gleaming eyes holding him there with only his mind as he stalked closer to…Dean? He saw the stripes of blood slashing over his brother’s skin, invisible claws tearing through his viscera and he could taste the tang of blood on his tongue when he bit down, trying to escape…  
_  
“And no one gets yelled at,” Max added.

 _…move, Sam! Go-go-go! Why can’t you follow orders like your brother!…_

Joy made Ben’s eyes glow reverently. “And nobody disappears. And when you wake up in the morning, you can stay in bed as long as –”

The words cut off with a soft snap, Max sobbing almost silently as she nestled the broken man in her lap, stroking his hair as if soothing him into sleep. 

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X5-494 felt an odd wave of disorientation and his fellow X5 took advantage, kicking him in the stomach before slamming a fist against his face. When X5-494 fell, his head hit the concrete floor with a solid thwack and the room swam in and out of focus.

 _…he was running towards a large, shaggy-haired man, horror overtaking him as he saw him fall to his knees in the mud, head swaying groggily. He screamed his name, his voice not nearly loud enough to encompass the pain he felt sear through him. He dropped to his knees before him, wrapping the sagging body in his arms and trying to support his sudden weight. He felt an odd stickiness on his palm and he pulled his hand away to see it soaked in red, the feeling of disbelief quickly overwhelmed by a wave of grief so complete, it spilled out of his mouth and echoed through the starry sky….  
_  
“X5-494, to your feet!” their commander snapped, his eyes showing his displeasure at how long it was taking the X5 to recover.

X5-494 shook his head, flinging loose the strange whispers of thought as he jumped to his feet, grinding his teeth together to still the swell of nausea that surged when he moved too quickly. “Yes, sir!”

The commander noticed his slight wavering, despite the X5’s rigid posture and eyes focused front in perfect training formation, and wondered if the slash of blood across his forehead indicated an injury that might delay training. “What is this, X5-494? Is a little head tap going to take you out or are you a real soldier?”

X5-494 stood straighter, hand snapping up in salute. “I’m a _soldier_ , sir!”

“Then follow orders and take down X5-525!”

“Yes, _sir_!”

His mind cleared as fists hit flesh and he easily fell back into the routine that structured his daily existence. All that mattered was being better, stronger, faster – all that mattered was order.

X5-494’s only purpose was to fight and to win. Weakness was failure.

These fantasies that sometimes plagued him were a sign of this weakness. As blood dripped into his eye, tingeing his vision in a red sheen, X5-494 took out his frustration on his opponent and, with measured breaths, beat him to the ground. 

                                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Max went into the kitchen to make coffee, Alec studied his reflection in the dirty, warped window of her apartment, the blurred image making something churn in his gut and compelling him to ask, almost against his will, “…tell me about him - about Ben.”

A slight smile ghosted over Max’s features, her face softening in remembrance. “When we were kids, back at Manticore, he always wanted answers for everything. Y'know?”

Alec’s gaze lost focus, thoughts turned inward, even as he tilted his head in her direction as if he were absorbing every word.

 _…a tiny hand found his, tugging hard. “Everyone else has one. Why are we diff’rent? Why don’t we have a momma, De-"…  
_  
“Why we were there, what was outside,” Max continued, staring blankly down at her lap, almost as if the story were forcing itself out, not under her control.

 _…I want to know what it’s like to be normal! I want to live in the same place for more than a couple of weeks. I want to go to the same school for the whole year. I want to have friends…  
_  
“So he would make up these fantastic stories to explain things. Somehow it made us feel loved, like we weren’t all alone.”

Alec gave her an understanding smile, the expression sliding easily over his face after years of practice, even as his belly gave another sickening lurch. “Sounds like a nice kid. What went wrong?”

 _…the smile was blinding – as it always was – the flash of a familiar dimple teasing him with its suggestion of innocence even as black eyes bored into his, burning with undisguised malice…  
_  
Max shrugged, still unable to look at him. “After we escaped, it was like there were too many things in this world that he didn’t have answers for.”

 _…am I supposed to go dark-side or something?!…  
_  
“I don’t know…he just lost it.”

Alec realized that something was needed from him, so he molded his features into an expression of concern as he asked, “Hey, you ok?”

Max kept her face averted. “I’m fine.” She sat down and Alec forced himself to go to her, rounding the counter to stand nearby but unable to touch her when all he really wanted to do was run – run and clear his head of these feelings that didn’t belong to him. Being near Max and her memories of this twin he never knew was screwing with his head, making thoughts that were more theirs than his seep through his brain. He never wanted a house, never wanted a family; he didn’t know anyone who had – no one but Max and her…no, his…crazy brother, this unknown equation that had screwed with his life.

Something made him ask her, needed to know. “Max, what is it?”

Her voice turned bleak, her words wavering as she tried to explain. “We were in the woods. He was hurt. Manticore was closing in on us. He didn’t want to go back there.”

 _…if I’d have called, would you have picked up?...  
_  
Alec swallowed, his eyes vacant and his jaw feeling tight. “Reindoctrination…or worse.”

“I killed him.” The admission was so soft, Alec almost didn’t hear it, a flash of surprise crossing his face when it finally sunk in.

“He asked me to, so I did.” Max’s voice broke, and a tear ran down her cheek as she took a deep breath to force herself to continue.

 _…no, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I’m not…you have to kill me...  
_  
“And then I ran. I saved myself. And I just left his body there for them to take away.” She started sobbing quietly, her shoulders trembling even as she tried to keep her emotions quiet and contained, unable or unwilling to share them with him.

 _…the body was just lying there; it couldn’t be him. The skin was too gray, too cold - it was a **mistake**. He just had to give him another second, another hour, another day and he’d open his eyes and smile...  
_  
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it,” Alec stated slowly, surprised by his own assuredness. He somehow knew this fact better than he knew himself, and he had always been the center of his own universe as far as everyone else was concerned.

He slid an arm around Max and brushed his lips over her hair to show he hadn’t intended that as a judgment. "Max, I'm sorry," he whispered - and he was, for what he wasn't sure, but the regret burned somewhere deep inside, exstinguising itself in its own painful burst of clarity before he could reason its purpose. He continued to hold her, more as an anchor for his own inexplicable confusion than her comfort, unwilling to concede that perhaps his twin’s instability was genetic, after all. He would not allow himself to go down that same path, following nothing more substantial than a dream - all that led to was madness and death.

He was stronger than Ben. He had been trained for twenty years to blend in. Maybe if Ben hadn’t been weak and run away, he might still be here, as well. All of Ben’s dreams had led to nothing - all he was now was bones and dust.

Alec would not let dreams take him down – not now, not _ever_. Best to lock them away and face reality on his own, in all its cold, hard glory. 

  



End file.
